


Putting On A Show

by KittyInATopHat



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Ass Play, Cunnilingus, F/F, F/M, I'm Sorry, Implied Past Relationships, Masturbation, Multi, Past Relationship(s), Threesome, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism, analigus, kind of?, this is a lot guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-19
Updated: 2017-07-19
Packaged: 2018-12-04 07:20:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11550273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittyInATopHat/pseuds/KittyInATopHat
Summary: Reaper is sent to Watchpoint Sri Lanka to plant bugs for Sombra, but he becomes distracted by more interesting events playing out in one of the conference rooms.





	Putting On A Show

**Author's Note:**

> This should pretty much just be called "things I would love to do to Ana Amari because I am a thirsty bitch". lol Also I would love love love a Watchpoint Sri Lanka ok? That base would be cool af
> 
> Some vocab for this story:  
> tonto | spanish | idiot, fool  
> ḥabībī (male) | arabic | "love" or "dear", form of endearment for close friends and family.
> 
> If I'm using either of these words in the wrong context, please let me know!

The chrome and glass of the newly built Watchpoint Sri Lanka leaves a heavy, sinking hole in Reaper’s chest, despite the rich acres of mountains, forests and sunshine surrounding it. For an organization that was supposed to be disbanded, Overwatch was still able to pull enough funds to make things overly elaborate. The bright, obnoxious orange logo makes him feel sick.   

He had been patrolling all day into the evening, bugging every nook of the base with Sombra’s tech, a process in which he never realized could be so tedious and infuriating. Reaper had deemed it too risky to go, but Sombra had been adamant that this needed to be done before the rest of Talon would arrive for reinforcements. It didn’t help that she had spent the day barking orders at him through his earpiece. When he finally told her he couldn’t focus with her screaming in his ear (“I wouldn’t have to scream if you listened to my directions,  _ tonto _ !”), she gave him an exasperated sigh.

“Before you leave, you need to test them all to make sure they work”, she told him. 

“I’ll take care of it”, he replies, shutting off his intercom before she has time to retort. Reaper had hacked enough cameras and hidden enough microphones for a lifetime. He retreats up to the rooftops, where he now sits, picking through the channel feeds on his display to make sure he can see and hear everything clearly. 

There’s movement in his peripheral vision inside the tall, glass building across from his perch and instinctively he tenses. He turns his attention towards the structure, a cream-colored conference room with a long, oak table and matching chairs, carefully, as to not draw attention to himself. He watches as a figure enters, their back turned away from the windows facing towards him. Reaper reaches for his guns, tucked away under his trench coat and settles his hand on the holster, but when the figure turns, Reaper freezes. 

“Captain Amari”, he mutters, taking in her figure. She looks exactly how he remembers her in her standard issue uniform of cargo pants and boots, her gray, braided hair tucked over her shoulder. 

She paces the room, idly. Reaper steps back, further into the shadows, surveying their situation. It was not a rare occurrence for an Overwatch agent of Ana’s status to be alone in a high security facility this late, but she doesn’t appear to be working. He turns his attention back his display and switches to the mics he planted earlier that day. He can hear her breathing softly. 

“Ana”, a voice chimes as a second, dimly lit figure appears in the doorway. Reaper recognizes them immediately. 

“The boy scout”, he growls, resentment settling into his chest as Jack Morrison steps into the light. Despite his graying hair and tired eyes, he looks as young as ever, clad in a tight, black shirt and the same pants and boots as Ana. She turns towards him as he enters. 

“Sorry I’m late”, Jack continues and closes the door behind him. 

“You should be”, Ana replies, pushing him hard against the closed door and Reaper’s anger dissipates into surprised by her unprovoked aggression. 

_ What is she doing?, _ Reaper questions. Ana and Jack remain still for a moment, their eyes locked. Then, she cracks a devilish grin and pulls him forward to capture his lips in a deep kiss. Jack, though initially startled, settles into her, pressing eagerly back against her lips. Watching them kiss stirs something inside of Reaper. He remembers all too well what being on a military base is like. An unrelenting fortress of authority, and the tension it breeds between comrades in arms. It’s obvious why Ana and Jack gravitate towards each other in this way. In an environment like this, full of stress and adrenaline and decisions that could mean life or death, the relief of losing control and unwinding into someone else is like air to a drowning man. As Reaper watches Jack’s hands begin to creep under Ana’s Overwatch-branded, black turtleneck, a lump forms in his throat. 

He grimaces, memories he’s spent so long forcing down stirring within him. It wasn’t long ago that he would be between them, a tangle of hands and limbs in the late nights of the sound-proof conference rooms. Or Jack’s office or Ana’s room. Or his office. Sometimes the hallway, if he just needed them to take him in a moment of heated desperation that could not wait. This scene was all too familiar. 

Jack’s hands climb their way across Ana’s sides and her breath hitches. Jack knows exactly how to touch her, even after all the time they’ve spent apart. Reaper remembers too, barely, but there is a distant familiarity to Jack’s movements. Jack breaks apart from Ana’s lips to move to her ear, nipping at her soft flesh. 

“Ana”, he coos, and even through the mic Reaper can hear the lust heavy in his voice. “Can I make it up to you?”. The way Jack’s hands silhouette under her shirt, trailing his fingers across her stomach, make him shiver. He’s been in Ana’s place, under Jack’s hands. Watching them now he even vaguely remembers what they feel like, rough and calloused flesh, his fingernails chewed down to the beds. 

“You’re going to have to”, she chirps and Jack smirks. Reaper is suddenly aware of the heat pooling into his belly and leaking straight into his cock. His legs weaken slightly and he steadies himself back against the cement wall behind him. The unfamiliarity shakes his system as hot blood rushes to his groin.  

The heat leaves him dazed, lust clouds his thoughts and his bulge begins to swell. He groans, overwhelmed by the foreign sensations. He can’t remember the last time he’s felt this, longing,  _ arousal _ , in any form aside from revenge. Watching them together touches nerves he thought burned in the Swiss headquarters along with the remainder of his humanity. Despite the flood of emotion, as Jack’s hands work her out of her turtleneck, Reaper cannot look away. Jack discards the garment onto the floor, leaving Ana in a white tank top, and he thumbs her harden nipples through the thin material. She’s backed against the door, Jack pressed against her, and despite being separated by the rooftops, Reaper is only a story above them. He can see her expression perfectly, collected as ever despite Jack Morrison teasing her nipples and nipping her neck. Reaper can hear her breath shudder. 

Jack cups her left breast and kneads it softly in his hands, using his other hand to push her undershirt over her bosom. Her breasts spill out from her shirt, bouncing slightly as they settle against her rib cage.

When she reaches her hands behind her head to unclasp her eye patch, Jack stops her. 

“Don’t feel like you have to take it off”, he says, attentive. 

“I want to tonight”, she says, sheepishly. As she tucks it into her pocket, he cups her face in the palm of his hand, turning her face up towards his. Amélie’s handiwork shows, Ana’s eyeball has been removed and the skin across her right eye is gnarled and scarred. Jack strokes her cheek gently with his thumb, like he understands that even though she has come to terms with the circumstances, she still feels this part of her is a vulnerable flaw. 

“You’re beautiful, Ana”. 

“I know”, she smirks and he laughs. He kisses her forehead and though the gesture is soft, it makes Reaper ache, his body and mind thirsty for intimacy. She reaches for his shirt, lifting it off his body in one motion. Jack’s back is cut, his chiseled muscles creased by dark shadows. Some of the scars that ripple across Jack’s fair skin, Reaper recognizes, either because he stitched the wounds himself or from the times he’d spent undressing him. Jack runs his hand through his hair, ruffling his locks in a familiar way that makes Reaper’s cock throb. Reluctantly, Reaper palms at his bulge through his pants, falling victim to his yearning. It’s careless of them to do this here. The conference room is lined with windows that cover the outer wall, looking over a walkway that, had it been midday, would be crowded. Even this late at night, a guard is bound to come through on patrol. He sneers: it’s like they want to be caught. 

Jack sticks out his tongue to flick Ana’s right nipple gently and she shudders when he does. He repeats the action, swirling more of his tongue across the delicate nub, and brings his other hand up to pinch her left nipple. She squirms between him and the door, mewling softly as he warms her body up. He alternates between her breasts for awhile, pinching and sucking, while his other hand snakes behind her. He grabs a rough handful of her ass and she gasps, causing him to grin. He pulls his mouth away from her chest and nips at her earlobe.

“At the debriefing earlier, all I could think about was how badly I just wanted to take you there”, he growls, low and primal. His tone makes Reaper’s knees weak, arousal heavy in his stomach, and he squeezes his shaft. 

“Is that so?”, she responds, voice shaking slightly, pushing Jack away from her so she can wiggle her undershirt off. She sashays to the conference table, kicking off her boots and undoing her belt as she sways seductively to the edge. Jack trails after her, a sailor following a siren song, to help her get her pants off. He embraces her hips from behind, peppering her neck with kisses as he does. Jack helps her undo the buckle, before popping the button on her pants and sliding his hand down. She grinds back into him, moaning gently as his fingers toy with her, his motions slow and teasing. 

Reaper’s hand is still settled on his hard on, and slowly, he begins to stroke himself through his pants. Part of him is ashamed and disgusted by his behavior, but there’s a stronger, savage part of him that he cannot ignore. He hungers for them, and if he were between them, he would ravish them both in ways they could never forget. 

_ They’re the ones putting on a show _ , he reassures himself. It’s been awhile since he’s touched himself like this. He knows most of his basics worked normally, but he hadn’t stuck around in Dr. Ziegler’s lab long enough to discover how much of his anatomy functioned like it had previously. He grazes over his shaft again, stopping to give the head of his cock a hearty squeeze. He holds back a moan as he continues, reveling in the electric shock it sends down his spine. 

Ana is grinding against Jack, and her hands move to her breasts to pinch and tease her nipples. She rests her head on his shoulder as his fingers work her body, small sighs of pleasure escaping her. He smooths his free hand down her side and she shivers. 

“Jack”, she smiles. 

“I’ve been thinking of burying my head between your legs all day”, he breathes in her ear. 

“Well what’s taking you so long then?”, she smirks. 

“Good point”, he chuckles, pulling his fingers out of her pants. In one fluid motion, he spins her around to face him, lifts her up and sets her down to sit on the conference table in front of him. She lifts herself up off the table so that he can help her out of her pants. She settles, naked, across the table and Reaper takes her in. Scars reach across her dark skin. Some he recognizes, but now there are others from the turmoils she has faced alone; battles fought against him, stretch marks from motherhood, wrinkles from age, but they only manage to make her more stunning. 

She rests herself down on the table behind her and props herself up on her arms. Jack leans over her running one hand through her thick hair and the other along the inside of her thigh to tease her further. Ana tilts her head back to give him better access to kiss her neck. His mouth returns to her breasts briefly, swirling one nipple in his mouth and than the other before continuing his way down. 

Jack plants gentle kisses across her lower abdomen, moving his hand to the patch of thick, gray hair between her legs. He separates the lips of her pussy to trace his thumb over her clit, drawing slow circles against her opening. Reaper can hear her breathing becoming heavy as she relaxes into the sensations, her body unwinding in Jack’s hands. Reaper pushes his free hand under his coat to tweak his own nipples, desperate for contact, the sounds she’s making are overwhelming.  

When Jack pushes a finger into her, she releases a long, pleasurable sigh, opening her legs further to give him more room. Gently, he draws his index finger out of her, rolls her clit against his thumb, and pushes his finger back in, adding his middle finger as he does. 

She’s so wet already, Reaper can hear the lewd noises Jack’s fingers make slipping in and out of her. The next time Jack pulls his two fingers out, he slides them into his mouth and a hot flash of arousal and jealousy courses through Reaper. That should be him with his head buried between her legs, tasting her on his tongue. 

He grips himself tighter and allows his gloved hand to sweep his full length, carefully, because he can already feel pressure building in his lower abdomen. Jack scoots a stray chair towards the table, settling in front of her and taking his place between Ana’s open legs. He wraps his arms around her thighs, gripping her tightly as he pulls her towards his mouth. He kisses the insides of her thighs and she squirms in his hands. Jack has always been this way, slow and attentive, but a relentless tease, leaving you aching and frustrated until you’re ready to kill him. But somehow he always manages to give you what you need. He plants a single kiss on her clit and then drags his tongue down, trailing against her tender slit and then coming back up again to flick the nub with the tip of his tongue. He moves his hands to frame her pelvic bone, using his thumb to spread her vulva apart, and continues the pattern with his tongue. Kiss, down, up, flick. 

Reaper pops the button on his pants and releases his cock from it’s confide. He’s painfully hard already and even in the dim light he can see how flushed the head is, engorged with blood, the hot muscle pulsating against his fingers. It still looks the same, despite the slight gray-purple tint of his skin. 

_ That’s promising _ , he muses.  

He tugs, experimentally, and the fire that shoots through him causes his knees to buckle. He moans, before he can clamp his hand over his mouth, and his movements halt, fear and thrill of being discovered coursing through him. When he turns his attention back to Jack and Ana, they’re too caught up in the other to have noticed. He breathes a relieved sigh and steadies himself against the wall behind him, leaning against it for support. 

“A-ah...Jack…”, she moans, bringing her hands to her breasts to pinch her nipples. All of her muscles are taut, her body shaking under him. He flattens his tongue against her clit, wiggling it back and forth, alternating between that and sucking gently. Jack returns his fingers inside her, pumping them in and out of her slowly in time with his mouth. She wraps her legs around his neck and shoulders to pull him closer, draping her calves over his back. 

Reaper rewards himself with another full stroke and as he does, he dips his head back against the wall, biting his lip, desperately trying not to moan. 

Ana weaves her fingers into Jack’s hair, her toes curling and uncurling. She’s close and Jack can tell because he buries his mouth against her folds, his fingers diving into her faster and faster. The next time his fingers reach her hilt, he pauses before curling his fingers inside of her and she gasps, arching her back off the table. He smiles against her and then does it again, circling her clit with his tongue as he does, drawing a euphoric moan out of her as she cums, shaking against him. She settles herself back against the table and he pulls away from her, running his hands up and down her thighs as she catches her breath.  

“Up for a little more?”, Jack asks, his voice husky. 

“When has once ever been enough ḥabībī?”, she coos to him, stroking his hair. The term of endearment cuts Reaper. What he wouldn’t give to have his hands on her, teasing her mercilessly. Jack was always too soft, giving into what she wants, but Reaper preferred the sadistic approach. Building them up, slowly, taking his time until they begged him to let them cum, then at their most desperate, letting them fall apart. The memories send another wave of arousal to Reaper’s cock and he tugs himself again. 

Jack stands to flip Ana over, scooting her back so she’s bent over the table in front of him. She backs herself against the straining bulge in his pants, grinding her hips against him. He grips her beautiful behind against him and grunts.  

“You’re driving me crazy and I’m not even ready to fuck you yet”, he huffs.

“Really? Because I would argue against that”, she smirks, loose hair from her braid draping over her shoulder to frame her face. She looks like a goddess.  

“You’ll be thankful that I’m not going to” he says, reaching into his front pocket for something. “At least, not yet”. He steps away from her, a wet spot from her soaking pussy staining the front of his cargo pants and pulls out a plastic wrapper. It looks almost like a condom, but when he tears open the packaging, Jack instead pulls out a long, square piece of latex and Reaper realizes what’s about to happen. 

“Spread your legs”, he says, gentle but commanding. She complies, opening her legs for him, her chest pressed down on the table and rests her head on the back of her hands. Jack gets on his knees, his face eye-level with her plump, round ass. He places the dental dam over her asshole, steadying his thumbs parallel to hold the opposing corners, and before she has time to prepare herself, licks her perineum gently. Her body shudders as his tongue loops up, lovingly circles her hole over the latex cover, and travels back down, over her taint once more before ending at her pussy, kissing her clit and repeating the motion. 

“Oooh, Jack”, she moans, spreading herself further for him, giving more of herself to him. Hot familiarity flashes through Reaper’s memories, being at the mercy of Jack’s skilled tongue and he rolls his nipple between his middle and index finger. He’s still holding his cock, pre-cum dripping from the tip, but he knows if he continues stroking himself he won’t be able to stop.  

Jack brings his mouth back to her ass, places his lips around her puckered hole and sucks at the skin gently. With one thumb still keeping the latex sheet in place, he uses his fingers to swipe gingerly over her clit, working in small, slow motions. Ana’s legs are shuddering and she grips the sides of the table, moaning. He pulls his mouth away, briefly, to give her ass a harsh smack, the sound of flesh hitting flesh echoing through the room. 

“Harder”, she rasps, tensing her thighs to prepare herself. Jack runs his hands softly between her thighs, across the glaring, red imprint before raising his hand and striking her again. She yelps sharply, before it dissipates into a moan. Jack returns his mouth to her hole, grazing his teeth against her, licking down her taint and pussy. Reaper wraps his hand around the tip, running his thumb across the slit and spreading precum over the engorged head of his cock. He quivers, the sensations ripping through him.

“Jack please, fuck me”, she begs, gasping. 

Jack returns to her clit, wiggling his tongue across the delicate nub. Ana’s legs begin to quiver, her second orgasm drawing near, her toes curling against the carpet. When Jack abruptly pulls away from her, she whines. He removes the dental dam, carefully slipping it back into the packaging before standing. Jack discards the wrapping on the ground with the pile of their clothes before reaching into his pocket to retrieve another square, foil package and a small bottle. He sets them aside on the table next to her hips before sliding his hands down to his pants. Slowly, he twists the worn leather of his belt through the brass buckle, discarding it on the floor with the rest of their clothing. As he unbuttons his pants, Reaper can see his cock straining against the captivity of his underwear. Jack tears the package open and pulls out a condom, then moves his underwear aside. His cock springs from it’s confines, rock hard, thick and flushed with blood. 

Jack gives himself a few lazy strokes before rolling the condom over his length. Then, he uncaps the bottle and smooths a coating of lube across his throbbing manhood. He discards the wrapper and bottle with the rest of their belongings. 

He steps towards Ana, his hand still gripping the base of his length as he presses the head of his cock against her opening. He traces his cock against her vulva and clit, and she moans, a smug grin on his face as he teases her. He slips the head of his cock inside of her and Ana lets out a frustrated groan. This is the hottest thing Reaper’s seen in a long time.    

“Jack”, she grunts, beginning to lose her patience. “Fuck me”. The desperate torment in her voice is suddenly masked behind the steely front of Captain Amari. 

“Yes Captain”, he purrs, granting her request and pressing himself inside of her. He pushes into her slowly, closing his eyes and tilting his head back, his mouth ajar. Every inch that disappears inside of her wet slit causes Ana to moan louder. The image sends a new wave of heat through Reaper’s body, his fleeting attempts at self control wither away, and he begins stroking his full length in desperation.  

“Ahh--Ana, fuck, you feel s-so good…”, he shudders as her body engulfs his throbbing cock. He pauses once he finishes burying himself inside of her, giving her a moment to adjust, but it doesn’t take long for her to begin thrusting back against him, desperately trying to create friction. He obliges, happily, gripping her hips and pushing forward into her thrusting. Reaper increases the speed of his strokes, rolling his fingers over the delicate head of his cock. He grunts, frustrated with his body for betraying him like this, pining for the touch of the two people who betrayed him the most. Despite his stroking, his hand isn’t enough to satisfy him. He wants to be closer. 

His eyes scan the room, searching for the corner with the most shadows and he spots it. The right corner, directly in front of Ana and Jack. This was a risky move, Reaper knows that, but watching them fuck consumes all his logical thought. He focuses on the corner, concentrating on pealing his molecules apart, and the next time he blinks he’s standing in the corner of the room, hidden in dark shadows. 

Reaper has a clear view of Ana, bent hard over the table as she’s fucked mercilessly by Jack, their expressions curled into utter bliss. The wet, sloppy sounds of their sex is lewd and raw, but the filthiness of their fucking sends a shiver down Reaper’s spine. He continues stroking himself, but when he looks down, he realizes that his ghostly form is naked, wisps of smoke billowing from his body. He shrugs it off, it was too vulnerable to fully teleport all of himself to one location, not with his concentration split between trying to stay hidden and pumping his dick. In a sick way, petering on the edge of two places at once just added to the thrill. Even if they caught a glimpse of him, Reaper was hardly the man he used to be. There would be no way they’d recognize him. 

The sounds escaping Ana’s lips send a cascade of goosebumps across Reaper’s skin. Jack’s hands slide over Ana’s ass to spank her again, showing her no mercy as the palm of his hand thwacks across her fleshy bottom over and over. She’s beginning to come undone, her mouth agape, her eyes half hooded, and legs shaking. Her fingernails claw into the edges of the conference table. Reaper strokes himself faster, heat and pressure pooling into his belly. 

“Jack,  _ Jack _ ”, she moans, chanting his name like a mantra. “I-I’m so close…”. With one hand, he grips her hips and begins thrusting into her roughly, reaching the hand that had been spanking her under her body and in between her legs. He rolls her clit between his fingertips and Ana gasps. 

“Then cum for me, love”, he coos, circling her clit again, and that’s all it takes to push her over the edge. She cums, moaning and shaking, her legs buckling underneath her as Jack holds her up. Jack’s pace increases, moaning, his movements becoming more and more sporadic as his orgasm draws near. He lifts his head, almost to survey the room, and that’s when he locks eyes on Reaper. Reaper freezes as Jack stares at him, wide eyed in disbelief, before his orgasm hits.

“Fuck,  _ G-Gabriel _ ”, he cries and hearing that name -  _ his  _ name - out of Jack’s mouth sends his consciousness crashing back to his body, still perched on the roof. Reaper cums, violently and gasping, his body shuddering. He falls back against the wall, cum splattering across the ground as fire and heat rip down his spine. When his cock stops spasming he closes his eyes, chest heaving, a thin dew of sweat on his skin, and leans his head back on the wall behind him, trying to catch his breath. Still hazy from his orgasm, he turns his gaze back towards the room, where Jack is rolling the condom off his softening cock and hastily trying to find his clothes. He looks distraught. Ana is standing, steadying herself against the table.

“Jack”, she says softly, but he ignores her as he pulls on his boxers and pants. 

“Jack”, she repeats, more earnestly, turning to face him. As she swings around, her legs wobble and she loses her balance. Jack is quick to catch her, his super soldier reflexes kicking in.

“Sorry”, he mutters, avoiding her eyes. “Are you okay?”. 

“You did me good, but I think I’ll be fine”, she smirks. “Hope you’ve saved some of that for next time”. Jack can’t help but crack a little smile, before it settles back into a frown. She steadies herself and he reaches for her undershirt and panties on the floor, handing them to her. 

“I’m sorry about--”. 

“Don’t, Jack”, she interrupts, her face stern as she slips her shirt back over her body. “You have nothing to be sorry about”. 

“That was pathetic...moaning his name…”, Jack says, hanging his head. 

“It’s not pathetic, Jack”, she says, reaching her hand up to stroke his cheek. 

“I just...god, I thought I saw him. I really thought I did”. Reaper feels like his heart is trapped in his throat. Jack pinches his fingers at the bridge of his nose. “I must be losing it”. 

“Being back on base stirs quite a lot of ghosts from the past, doesn’t it?”, she says, softly. “There’s nothing wrong with that”. Jack takes a labored breath, as if he’s trying to hold back tears.

“I miss him, Ana”. 

“I miss him, too”, she sighs. “Sometimes I feel like I can still hear him, harping on Jesse or joking with Reinhardt or...”. She trails off, like continuing is almost too painful. Jack wraps his arms around her, nuzzling his nose into her disheveled locks and she buries her head into his chest. They stay like this for a moment, two broken people, holding each other close, finding solace in the other. 

Reaper looks down at himself, heated embarrassment settling in his cheeks when he realizes he’s still leaning against the wall with his cock out. How revolting.

He shoves his limp dick back into his pants, then checks over his outfit to make sure he didn’t cum on himself. In the back of his mind, he can feel it: his long-buried humanity crawling it’s way to the surface. He tries to ignore it, but an undeniable longing for love and acceptance is there, clawing at him, reminding him of what he will never have. Reaper grimaces, a familiar wave of disgust rippling through him, his rage protecting him from the lingering emotions underneath. Ana and Jack pull away from each other.

“How about we go back to my room for a cup of tea and a bath?”, Ana suggests softly. 

“That would be nice”, Jack says, kissing her forehead. As they gather their things, Reaper turns away, heading back into the deep night, back to the life of a Talon agent, his grief trailing close behind. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, have a nice day! (:


End file.
